Perfect Sunday
by jammyjamfan
Summary: -sometimes our perception is different to reality, sometimes reality is having only a few pieces of a puzzle /-POV piece -
1. Chapter 1

The last thing I saw with any certainty was the little girl with a pink ice-cream on the sidewalk playing with her dog.

It had been a perfect Sunday. There had never been such a perfect Sunday before this one. The sun was warm but without a nasty glare, it had risen beautifully in a soft glow, the breeze was soft enough to stop the heat but not so much that your hair got in your way. Kids were playing outside but without screaming bloody murder and no neighbor was mowing lawns. It was the perfect temperature, the perfect amount of silence, I wasn't on call, and the family was busy with other things so my home was quiet too. I drove to the park for some fresh air and had been on my way home to meet my best friend to watch her favorite documentary...

The little girl was the last thing I was sure I saw, pink cheeks from messy melting ice-cream cone and a puppy jumping up to play...

There was flashes

There were sparks

Muffled panicked humming of voices that I could not understand

And banging like on a drum in my head

I feel wet and sticky

Jolts like noise ran through my body but never reached my ears

Someone was crying somewhere inside my head

Red and blue repeated their cycle in the distance

Crunching sounds like metal were above me physically driving pain into my muscles

My eyes heavy, nothing is clear

Blurred faces in front of me their mouths moving like fish underwater

They said everything while saying nothing

Then vertigo and a wave of queasiness

Did I move or everything around me move, nothing seemed real

Suddenly the cold hit like falling into snow

I tried to move away but something was holding me

The voices again like distant waves at the beach

I tried to scream but heard nothing

A light in my eyes moving like a lighthouse

Hands all over me like burning pokers

Something pressed on my face

my face

It felt broken like it wasn't mine

Then warmth slowly everywhere

Unfathomable pain and nothing at all

The nearby faces blurred still nearby until they drift away softly

* * *

"Jane? Jane can you hear me?"

I move towards the voice, a voice I can hear, words that are words

"You are in a hospital, you're going to be ok"

Soft caring voice comforting me, A voice I love

"Can you hear me Jane? It's Maura."

I try to move but can't, Try to open my eye's but can't, Try to move my arm but can't

I feel a hand take mine and I try to squeeze it

"I feel that Jane, do that again if you can hear me."

I squeeze again, I'm tired already

"Jane you were in an car accident, a man swerved to avoid hitting a dog and hit you, do you remember?"

I don't squeeze, I don't remember, I only remember the little girl and her dog on the sidewalk

"You are going to be alright, you just need time to heal. Your face is quite swollen and bruised and you have a few broken bones..."

The voice pauses, I know it is holding something back but I can't ask

"You should be back to normal before you know it, There are no long term disabilities. You are very very lucky."

I try to smile but can't tell if I moved. I don't believe in luck.

I ache. My aches have their own aches. I want the pain to go away.

"The doctor will be in soon to check on you"

She squeezes my hand gently

"Are you tired?"

I squeeze her hand

"Are you in pain?"

I squeeze again

A few moments pass and the pain eases away, a wave of exhaustion hits me

"I love you Jane, I am so grateful you are alive."

I squeeze back that I understand, or at least yes

"Go to sleep Jane."

She doesn't have to tell me twice, I'm too tired to do anything else

Sunday wasn't so perfect, I hope Monday will be better


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2 Perfect Sunday two

For those that wanted more...

* * *

Monday passes in a blur

Tuesday as well

Wednesday Ma is crying and Frankie tells her It will be ok

Thursday I want more painkillers

Friday I want less so I don't feel so sick

Saturday is nice, just a warm hand in mine brushing the back of my hand, and occasional strokes on my face

My face is tender still, my eyes are starting to open a little but everything is fuzzy, the room is always too bright

I still can't talk, can barely sip fluids, Maura said my Jaw was dislocated

I can move but I still ache

Every bone, every muscle, every joint feels like glass shards in them

Sunday again and Maura sits by me she talks about everything and nothing, its calming just to hear her voice

Monday they start physical therapy, moving me while I remain still, Maura said it's to help the muscles heal well

Tuesday I had a bath in bed, it would probably be nice if it was my choice

Wednesday I panicked, I couldn't feel my legs, but Maura in her infinate wisdom seemed to understand me even though I couldn't speak

"You are fine Jane, there is nothing serious I haven't told you about, you will recover and be the same as you were"

I still had my legs, I can make out leg shapes under the sheets if i focus hard

Pain is a funny thing, you hate it till it's gone, and when it's gone you think something must be wrong, then it comes back and you hate it even more for tricking you

Thursday more of everything yet I do nothing

Friday Maura tells me more about what happened to me physically, I don't understand a lot of her google-speak but what I do understand sounds promising

Saturday Ma tells me that Maura was able to see me almost immediately after I arrived in the hospital, feels nice to know she was there to look out for me

Sunday, Sunday again, I can see little bits clearly sometimes  
I see my friend, she looks tired like she hasn't slept  
I see my Ma, she just cries, I must look bad  
Frankie jokes, says I am still invincible, then asks how I feel, he look worried

Monday they move my limbs, my arms everything, it all hurts, they say I did good today but I felt like a rag-doll, they could have had a marionette show with me for all the control I had  
I sleep better these days, feel better, maybe the drugs aren't as strong  
I can see better now

I sleep on and off for six days letting everything around me continue, daily muscle manipulation, sponge baths, hand holding, the days blur together in tiredness

Monday I can sit by myself now, I get a ride in the hall in a wheelchair, it's nice to see different walls, different windows even though the people are the same, I see a reflection of me in the glass door, it's not clear but I know its me, my face is a purple yellow colour, my eye sockets sunken and dark, my body thin and weak and pale, I am close to the colour of my hospital gown, no wonder Ma can hardly look at me

Wednesday I have new tests done and they all come back clear, no brain injury, bones healing, swelling almost gone, bruising has made it through all the colours of the rainbow to mainly yellow, at least on my arms and legs, I still haven't seen my face  
Maura is delighted at my progress, She helps me change,  
I get to see myself in a mirror, finally, I have a dark line across my torso where the seatbelt must have been  
I look like a zombie, still pale, sunken eye sockets, messy hair, bandage around my face holding my jaw in place  
Maura just holds me in a hug while my eyes leak and sting, it passes

Thursday they remove the bandage and ask me to talk, I just shrug, They look worried, honestly I am having a massive pity party and the extra attention is almost nice, lots of extra hovering, plus I have nothing to say right now, nothing nice anyway, I am not sure I even can talk, I don't care to try. I think they worry mostly that I don't even try

Friday Maura takes me outside in a wheelchair, I am wrapped in so many layers I can't move, Maura talks away to me holding my hand, stroking my hair, touching my arm, She tells me to move my jaw in exercises even though it's painful. I do it for her.

I still look like I was in a bar fight but otherwise ok, getting better, almost healed.

Saturday Maura takes my hand, "Talk to me" she whispers gently, I squeeze her hand.  
"Tell me how you feel"  
She is clever that Maura, a yes or no response by way of hand squeeze won't answer that question, I decide to shrug, It is actually a good representative of how I feel. Maura responds with a smile and brushes the hair away from my eyes.  
It's odd the things I didn't notice before, like how she looks at me like she always does, everyone else look at me with pity or even repulsed. She doesn't shy away from touching me like I might break.  
And she doesn't take my crap either. She won't let me have my pity party like I never let her have one.  
"Tell me how you feel, Jane" I want to shrug again, I really don't know, I'm in pain but less than I was, I am tired but less than I was. I am probably ok but I have little comparison now. But shrugging, I imagine, will not get a good response, she lets me away with things only once.  
I open my mouth to speak, my jaw is stiff and hurts a little, it hurts a lot, I breath out slowly then in again, I lick my lips, "fgghhhhh" Is all I can manage, my lips haven't remembered how to form shapes  
Maura has a great sense of humour when I am unable to tease her, she grins widely at me a twinkle in her eyes as though she just won the first prize riding trophy a her horse competition. "Glad you don't feel bad, or yuck, or feel like ice-cream and pizza."  
I want to laugh and demand pizza, I am unsure how I could chew it  
I must have smiled because Maura smiles and says "Glad to see you aren't so glum now"

By Monday I can almost string words together, most people appear to understand me, or are too polite to tell me I sound like a i'm drunk all the time, It hurts to open my mouth, I am still not on real food yet

Tuesday I have a psychologist visit, maybe they are worried I am depressed, I smile at her reassuringly, at least I hope it looks like a smile  
Maura shows me pictures of after the accident, It might help, I looked like I'd been attacked by a lawnmower, it was frightening, I had a gash on my head, both eyes were swollen shut, I can't look at it anymore "Enough"

Wednesday I can get around with the help of crutches although my right arm needs to rest occasionally, They think I threw it up to protect myself and it got in the way of the high velocity airbag, much like my face did  
It saved my life though, that and the fire department that cut me out with the jaws of life, and the ambulance workers who got me to the hospital

Thursday I can go home, supervised, Maura drives, I feel anxious, sick, the car goes too fast  
We go to my place first to get clothes and then to Maura's to stay and recover.  
She drives down a stretch of road, it's familiar to me, there is no little girl anymore, no dog, no mangled cars, or sirens  
I finally speak "What happened to other driver?"  
I feel sick, how selfish of me not to ask, although I wasn't sure I should feel sorry for him, I should be angry at what happened to me  
"He is fine, recovering as well as you are"  
I am relieved, I am not sure guilt would have helped my pity party much, Maura just calls me grouch nowdays, I'm sure the name suited when my bruising was green  
I arrive at Maura's, time for Red Socks bingeing, time to catch up on missed games,  
"Beer?" I whine even though Maura shakes her head no.  
I don't watch much tv in the end, I fall asleep on the couch repeatedly, waking up everytime to changes, it's like eye-spy without the guessing

The chair and lamp moved

The dirty plates on the table vanish

The drapes are open

Water and pills appear next to a magazine

The sun peeps through different windows

Drapes closed again

Maura asleep in the chair beside me

Maura gone from her chair again

I sleep less and less and wander more and more, it's good for me don't you know.  
Physical training is good everyday, gets me out of the house  
Soon I will be back at work

Sunday, another beautiful Sunday rolls around, I'm on the love-seat outside in the garden relaxing in the warm breeze, rocking slowly, enjoying the silence and the warmth, today is eerily like another Sunday I remember outside hospital walls, It could almost be the same day  
Maura comes and sits beside me wrapping an arm around me resting her head on my shoulder

"Such a perfect Sunday isn't it"

"Yes it is Maura. Maybe we could watch a documentary later"


	3. Chapter 3

I woke up at 3am and decided my one shot needed a conclusion. Life is hard we all know this, what I determine a hard life someone else will say I wish I had your life because my is harder. Perspective is a funny thing that way. Tragedy is something we wish to avoid...but your life is YOUR life because because you lived something unique.  
Whatever your life is it's INCOMPARABLE to anyone else. I hope this chapter helps anyone to move forward through hard times.

* * *

 **Sunday Three**

* * *

Time passes

Sundays go by in multiples

Scars fade

bones heal

Memories of little girls and ice-cream begin to fade

A new car comes with all the bells and whistles

Maura wouldn't have it any other way

The memories don't fade they never will

Driving that road gives me goosebumps and chills

Finding another route is easy to do

But every dog I see on the street makes me want to hide away

I once meet the man that crashed into me

He has a scar above his eyebrow and some pins in his knee

He says he is truly sorry says he didn't see me till it was too late

That he saw them lift me out of the mangled car

Bloody and broken and they carry me away

He said he cried many nights that he had almost taken my life

I met with him for his sake but I think it helped me to let go of the hate

I tried to joke that he ruined my favorite shirt but he didn't get it

He looked hurt and offered to replace it if need be and I laughed

How could he know all my shirts were the same it was just my humor

I was pleased when Maura arrived to take me home that day

Days pass and everything is the same

Cases to solve and hurt people to comfort

Helping those that have lost their life while I get to keep mine

Life moves on around me and I tag a few feet behind

Crime scenes with car crashes leave me disturbed

To everyone else I am only distant and sad

That's the thing about scars you see

Everyone has them but they cannot be seen to the naked eye

The way we think and the things we do are because of the things that happen to you

I learned to hate the saying to walk a mile in someone shoes

You meet people that have been through the same as you

But the physical things have nothing to do with the mind and heart

Coping skills and survival kits mean we all cope in a different way

Feel things different hear things different see things different think things different

No one has experienced my life

A complex accumulation of thoughts

Anger and hurt the driving motives

Fear and love the limitations

And the feelings are only the completed bundle of it all

Maura understands in the best way she doesn't pretend she knows how I feel

She comforts me when I wake in fear just like she always has

It is strange to most that this scar is deeper than being kidnapped or shot at

To explain is not easy

I put myself in those places and thats the dangers I am aware of in the job

The crash was unexpected and I had no control of it or the events after

My perspective didn't fit what happened and it was unknown and scary

Like losing my baby I was in pain and woke up to a heartbreaking change

A loss of something that was a part of me and I could do nothing about

I learned that when I can do something and choose I have no fear

But when it's someone else's decisions and I can't change it Its hard to let go

But for someone else a car crash might not leave a permanent bruise inside

Maura understands in a way as she remembers hoyt

She was powerless to move she could not stop his blade

I took control and stopped him for her and I'd do it again at the cost of my life

After the crash I swore I would never loose control again

But ontrol is a hard thing to hold onto

You are drowning when you don't have it and you hurt others when you do

Its a dangerous balance of surviving

It is living by another name

The peace is only there when the dangers are far gone

And the sad thing is that self-preservation now trumps protecting the innocent

Can I go back

Can anyone go back

I think it is possible if you can let go

If you can see that control is an illusion we hold

We have no control

It's all a delusion

So I let go because you can control nothing

You can only control your own choices I found

To Love

To give

To be kind

To share

To help others

To fear

To be strong

Others choices are their own

All choices mingle and effect others and that is the mess we call life

To be free to choose is to be free indeed

Now I am happy

Now I am free

Life moves on and I am moving forward with it

Everyday is perfect because it is a gift - It is a present - This moment is the present!


End file.
